


Get You Alone

by nofearqueerhere



Series: Learn Me Hard, Oh, Learn Me Right [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV), The Walking Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 17:11:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nofearqueerhere/pseuds/nofearqueerhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It wasn’t Carl’s fault, Daryl knew that. It wasn’t his fault or Maggie’s or Rick’s or Michonne’s or anyone’s. If anything, he could just chalk not having alone time up to another downside of the end of the fucking world. Besides, whatever he chalked it up to, it wouldn’t change the fact that Carol was downstairs with Glenn’s fucked-up cooking, and Daryl was upstairs with a hard-on, alone."</p><p>Caryl. They're ready for a new first, if they ever get a chance to try it out. </p><p>Vague mentions of past (sexual) abuse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get You Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Vague mentions of past (sexual) abuse.

“Fuck, Carol,” he groaned against her neck, already worked up as her nails raked down the planes of his stomach towards his belt. She worked quickly trying to get his jeans undone, and he sucked at her neck hard, urging her on.

 

She shoved her hand into his boxers unceremoniously, fingers immediately closing around his cock. He let out a grunt as she pulled upwards with a twisting motion. His hips stuttered forward shakily. Reluctant to let go of her, he forced himself to move his hands from her shoulders down to his own waistband, tugging at his jeans in an attempt to bare more skin. They were midway down his thighs when the door to their shared room flew open.

 

“Carol!” Maggie’s voice cried out, followed immediately with “Oh my god! I’m sorry!”

 

The damage was done, though. Luckily Carol was still fully clothed, and she was between Daryl and the door, so he wasn’t too exposed. He turned away, shoving himself back inside his boxers and hurriedly fastening his jeans while Maggie continued to apologize behind them.

 

“It’s okay,” Carol was saying. Daryl had a hard time telling if the tightness in her voice was frustration or just amusement. “What did you need?”

 

Maggie was blushing by the time he turned back around. “It’s not . . . It’s no big deal, I’m sorry. Glenn has kitchen duty and he’s . . . it’s bad,” she laughed sheepishly. “Like, I don’t know if even _you_ can fix it.”

 

Carol caught Daryl’s eye, just for a fleeting moment, with an endearing mix of exasperation and mirth. Then she turned back to Maggie. “I can’t believe you’d doubt me like that,” she chuckled, and followed the younger woman out the door.

 

Daryl was left standing there alone, blushing hotly with a tent in his jeans. Just like he had been, it seemed like lately, every time he and Carol tried to have a little fun since that first time a couple of weeks ago.

 

At least Rick usually knocked, coming to find one or both of them to talk strategy or organize a run for supplies. Michonne would come find Daryl when she got antsy and wanted to go hunt walkers, because she knew he got the same way sometimes, and Rick didn’t like anyone going alone. Maggie or Glenn would burst in with some domestic emergency or needing personal advice. Daryl thought Eugene and Tara did it on purpose, just to see him squirm. The worst, though, was Carl.

 

Carl wanted Daryl to teach him how to shoot a crossbow. Carl wanted Carol to help with Judith. Carl wanted to tell Daryl that Rick thought he should hunt soon. Carl wanted to know if Carol would take over his chores because _his ankle hurt real bad_. Carl wanted this. Carl wanted that.

 

Daryl knew the kid could get annoying, but _Christ_. Having a fourteen-year-old kid walk in while your hands were up a woman’s shirt and things were starting to head in a _real nice_ direction – that took “irritated” to a whole new level.

 

It wasn’t Carl’s fault, Daryl knew that. It wasn’t his fault or Maggie’s or Rick’s or Michonne’s or anyone’s. If anything, he could just chalk not having alone time up to another downside of the end of the fucking world. Besides, whatever he chalked it up to, it wouldn’t change the fact that Carol was downstairs with Glenn’s fucked-up cooking, and Daryl was upstairs with a hard-on, alone.

 

 _Just the way it is, Dixon_.

 

-

 

His dick went down eventually, but Daryl was on edge all night. He knew he could get a little over-eager sometimes, like his body was making up for lost time or something. It was like he just couldn’t get enough of Carol. Especially the way she was makin’ eyes at him over the dinner table . . . it was a wonder no one else had noticed. Her foot had even brushed against his once, causing him to jump in surprise and bang his knee against the underside of the table. After that he kept his feet tucked firmly underneath his own chair, trying to ignore that “up-to-something” look she had in her eyes.

 

He was out of there as soon as dinner was over, heading out to stand on watch with Michonne for a bit. He wasn’t on the schedule for the night, but he couldn’t be in that house anymore. Carol would have to clean up after and then sit around babysitting all night like she was everyone’s damn mama – and he didn’t just mean Carl and Judith. She’d have her hands full looking after everyone, and Daryl was too tense to be cooped up inside if he couldn’t have her full attention.

 

Michonne seemed to understand without him having to say anything. When a lone walker stumbled towards the fence, she said quietly, “It’s yours if you want it.”

 

Daryl opted for his knife instead of his crossbow. It took more energy that way, and energy was exactly what he needed to burn off.

 

After a couple of hours and a few more easy kills, Michonne shook her head at him. “Hell, I’ll go inside if you just wanna take over watch.”

 

“Sorry,” he shook his head back. “Too many people in there, and I’m too – ” He broke up. Like hell she needed to hear about all the Carol-centered thoughts racing around his head.

 

“I know,” she said, laughing. “The sexual tension’s rolling off you two in waves. So why don’t you go in there and do something about it?”

 

Daryl paused. It’d been a few hours by his estimate, long enough for some of the others to head up to bed, or at least clear out of the shared space. Maybe tonight he’d finally find some relief . . .

 

He nodded, not that she could probably even see it in the dark, with her eyes so focused past the fence line. “Yeah, I think I’ll head in. Could say the same to you, though,” he added before passing her knife back and heading in.

 

“What?” she called after him, but he figured he’d let her chew on it for a little while. She and Rick could figure it out on their own. Besides, he was already on his way to Carol.

 

-

 

Up in their bedroom, he’d been pacing shirtless for more than a few minutes now. He’d caught her eye downstairs on his way in, and her gaze had been suggestive enough to let him know she knew what he wanted. She’d nodded and then turned back to her conversation with Maggie. He knew it would be a bit before she came up, but he hadn’t expected it to be this long.

 

He knew, also, that she was doing it on purpose. Carol loved to tease him and draw shit out. He’d say he hated it – except that the signals his body was sending would attest to the opposite.

 

Finally he kicked his shoes off and flopped down on the bed, throwing a hand over his eyes and taking a few deep breaths. May as well calm down while he had the chance – no need to get all worked up waiting and then blow his load as soon as Carol touched him.

 

The bed was nice and comfortable, and he actually did feel a little calmer by the time footsteps started creaking outside. He heard the door open, click shut and lock as Carol stepped in, toeing out of her own boots and dropping at least a few layers of clothes on the floor from the sound of it. Without opening his eyes, he let out a theatrical little snore.

 

“Aw, pookie, did you want to go to bed?” she teased. “That’s fine with me, sweetheart.”

 

He sat up then, shrugging. “Was hopin’ we could fool around, but you took so damn long. Started going grey up here all by myself.”

 

Left in only a tank top and panties, Carol giggled. “Come on, Grandpa. I sorta had . . .” she blushed, something Daryl didn’t get to see a whole lot, “. . . something new planned.”

 

Daryl’s mouth was already dry, but he tried to go along with the teasing as he stood and shuffled towards her. “I could tell,” he snorted, “the way you were acting at dinner. Michonne wasn’t even there and she said I needed to get laid.”

 

Carol squinted and tilted her head at that, and Daryl grimaced at the way it sounded, but by then they were close enough to touch, so she just drew him in for a long, languid kiss.

 

After being so worked up all night, his dick sprang to attention within seconds. They were pressed close, and Carol could obviously feel it. She snuck a hand down to palm him through his jeans briefly before reaching for his belt. As soon as she had it open, he pulled at the bottom of her tank top, forcing her arms up as he pulled it over her head. She had a moment to grin breathlessly at him before he was kissing her again.

 

Her hands went back to his pants, this time getting the fly undone and pulling them down along with his boxers. Once she had them down to mid-thigh he helped her tug them down enough to kick them off, leaving him completely naked. He tried to reach for her bra, but she shook her head.

 

“Come on,” she smiled at him, nipping at his lips one more time before pushing him gently backwards, until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he was forced to sit.

 

When Carol knelt between his legs, he gripped the blankets so hard his knuckles went white.

 

She just kissed him for a while longer, letting him get used to the idea. Her hands rubbed up and down his thighs and sides and once in a while across his chest. She was so close that his dick was trapped firmly between them, pressed tight between his lower belly and her abdomen, just below her breasts. He had to lean down to reach her mouth, and it strained his neck, but he couldn’t have formed the words to complain even if he’d been crazy enough to want to.

 

Finally she reached her hand between them, stroking lazily up and down his cock. Every few strokes she’d rub her thumb over the head and watch him shudder. Her free hand gripped the small of his back, soothing over scars and keeping him pressed close to her as they kissed. When her mouth left his, it was only to kiss down his neck, over his collarbones, lower over his chest. His heart was hammering away so hard he had to wonder if she could feel it beneath her lips. The way her hand kept up those soothing circles over his lower back, he thought maybe she could.

 

She looked up at him when she reached the trail of hair leading down from his belly button. He looked right back, lost for words but sorta feeling like he’d die if she stopped.

 

“You sure about this?”

 

Daryl frowned when he realized the words had come out of _his_ mouth. He’d expected Carol to ask; that’s usually what she was doing when she stopped and looked at him like that. It made sense, he supposed, his concern. Where his sexual history had been uneventful, as he understood it Carol’s had been downright traumatic. This was a first for the two of them, together, and he just wanted her to know. He wanted it to be her choice, not something she felt forced into or obligated to do. Even if his white knuckles and rapidly beating heart gave away his own eagerness.

 

She smiled, though, pursing her lips in that slightly mocking but somehow never offensive way of hers. Like she thought he was so naïve. He kinda was, he figured, so he couldn’t really argue. Then she nodded, placing a hand over one of his tight fists. “I’m sure,” she said softly, more seriously now. “Are you?”

 

He swallowed hard and tried not to nod too quickly. She smiled again, nodded back, and leaned down.

 

Then her hands were spreading his knees wide and gripping the base of his cock, and she was lowering her mouth down around him. He groaned at the first contact – it had been literally years, maybe close to ten or more, since anyone had done this to him. She hummed around him, bobbed her head down, and choked immediately. He bit his lip. Maybe it’d been a while for her to, even before Ed was gone.

 

For a while he didn’t know what to do with his hands, but eventually he couldn’t resist bringing one up to grip the back of her head. She hummed around his cock again, apparently a noise of approval, he could only guess from the way she forced herself down over him again. She kept choking, but she kept her hand at the base and did her best. It was still the best time Daryl could remember, and he felt like he could blow any minute, so he figured it was more than good enough.

 

Her mouth was so _hot_ , he marveled, and he was pretty sure the slurpy little noises she was making shouldn’t have been as sexy as they seemed to him. Even the sight of her head moving up and down, the glimpse of her bra stretched tight across her back, little details threatened to make him come undone. She kept one hand over his, resting on the bed, while she brought the other to grip his balls and massage them gently. It vaguely occurred to him that he wasn’t being very quiet, but every time he looked down at the picture between his legs, he couldn’t really be bothered to try.

 

He didn’t know so much about the etiquette of this whole thing. Was it okay that he had a hand on her head? She seemed to like that, so he wasn’t too worried. But could he hold her hard like his instincts told him to? Could he push his hips forward and thrust into her mouth? She was choking a lot as it was; _maybe I shouldn’t_ , he thought, but his body was sorta doing it of its own accord. One thing he was sure of – he was definitely supposed to warn her when he came. Which, he realized as her hand squeezed tighter at the base and she moved her head faster, sucking in earnest and moaning like she was enjoying herself as much as he was, could very possibly be any second.

 

“Fuck,” he groaned, hips jumping forward. She gagged but didn’t pull away, only gripped his hand tighter and sped up her motions even more. His breathing was ragged by this point, the desire to come filling him up so he could hardly think of anything else. He was pretty sure he was unintentionally fucking her mouth at that point, but it was like he didn’t even have control of his body. He barely had the presence of mind to choke out, “Carol, ‘m gonna come, _fuck_ –” before his hips thrust forward _hard_ and both of his hands flew to the back of her head to hold her against him.

 

She choked and gagged around him, and he let go of her head as soon as he realized what was happening, but she didn’t pull away until his hips were still and he was groaning and hiding his face in his hands.

 

He was still sitting up, but boneless enough that she could scoot him back towards the center of the bed and straddle his lap without any resistance. “You okay?” she murmured, pressing light kisses to his flushed skin.

 

Burying his face in her neck, he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. “I was too rough,” he muttered against her skin. “’M sorry.”

 

She just ran her hand through his hair, guiding him up so she could kiss his forehead. “It’s okay,” she assured him, serious because she knew he wasn’t kidding. “If it wasn’t, I would have stopped you.”

 

“Promise?”

 

She nodded. “I promise I’ll always tell you if something’s wrong. You too,” she added, toying with the hair at the base of his neck.

 

Not meeting her eyes, he nodded too. “’Kay. I promise.”

 

They stayed wrapped together, Carol eventually reaching behind her to unhook their bra so they could have more skin-to-skin contact. It was probably late, Daryl knew, but he didn’t want to let go of her even long enough to get the light. She seemed pretty content to stay too.

 

Even sitting up, he felt like he could fall asleep like that. He was actually pretty close to nodding off against her shoulder when a knock came at the door, making both of them jump.

 

“Daryl!” Glenn’s voice cried out, crashing through the calm moment like a freight train.

 

“God dammit,” Daryl groaned against Carol’s shoulder before nudging her off of him and crossing to the door. “Somebody dead?” he called out, resting a tight fist against the frame.

 

“No . . .” Glenn admitted, a little cowed.

 

“Somebody gonna die?”

 

Even more sheepishly: “No.”

 

“Then leave us the hell alone,” Daryl snapped, flicking the light off and crossing back to the bed in long strides. He buried himself under the covers and buried his face in Carol’s chest, with no intentions to move for the rest of the night.


End file.
